General Hrair
by wtw
Summary: Prequel to "The Promised Friend". A buck rabbit with an astounding ability is banished from his warren. But that is just the beginning...


General Hrair

by Bill Welch 

Legal Notice 

This Watership Down fan fiction short story ("General Hrair") was written in April 2000 by Bill Welch. 

This fan fiction is based on the concepts of the novel "Watership Down", (c) 1972 by Richard Adams. The characters of El-ahrairah, Hazel (aka Hazel-rah), Blackberry, and General Woundwort are copyrighted to Richard Adams. Other characters were created by Bill Welch for this fan fiction. 

The authour of this fan fiction (Bill Welch) is not affiliated with either "Watership Down" or Richard Adams. The author of this fan fiction (Bill Welch) will not accept any form of financial compensation for this fan fiction.  
  
This fan fiction is in the public domain and can be reproduced without the authour's consent, provided the following five conditions are met: 

a) This Legal Notice is to accompany any and all reproductions of this fan fiction. 

b) This Legal Notice is not to be subtracted from, added to, or edited in any form. 

c) This fan fiction is not to be purchased or sold at any price. 

d) The text of this fan fiction is not to be subtracted from, added to, or edited in any form. 

e) Illustration(s) may accompany reproductions of this fan fiction provided that no person demands or receives a fee for said illustration(s), the said illustration(s) can legally be viewed by persons of any age, the said illustration(s) are within the context of said fan fiction, and any text appearing in/with said illustration(s) also appears in the text of said fan fiction, with the sole exception being the artist's name/signature with the date of creation of said illustration(s), and an illustration copyright notice. 

If there is a situation where any of these five conditions are not met for any reason, then this fan fiction is not to be reproduced in said situation. 

The authour of this fan fiction (Bill Welch) reserves the sole right to edit the text of this Legal Notice and the text of this fan fiction in exception to conditions b) and d). 

Many character names found in this short story were discovered in the Postcode Plants Database found at the URL  http://fff.nhm.ac.uk/fff/searchFLfam.htm

Scripture taken from the HOLY BIBLE, NEW INTERNATIONAL VERSION Copyright (c) 1973, 1978, 1984 International Bible Society. Used with permission of Zondervan Bible Publishers. 

This Legal Notice is effective as of 12:00 P.M. Mountain Daylight Time, Monday, April 17, 2000 and has no expiry date. Any and all portions of this fan fiction that were posted on the Internet prior to the effective date and time of this Legal Notice and all copies derived from said portions of this fan fiction are also covered by this Legal Notice. 

End of Legal Notice text 

** Lapine Vocabulary **

Bobstones = rabbit guessing game (number and nature of pebbles covered by paws)  
Efrafa = a hostile rabbit warren that was a virtual police state and that was run by General Woundwort  
El-Ahrairah = rabbit folk hero  
Elil = enemy of a rabbit (predator)  
Embleer = stinking (smell of fox) - can be used as a curse  
Flay = normal food (grass)  
Flayrah = good food  
Frith = the sun, rabbit god  
Fu-Inlé = night time (after Inlé rises)  
Hawk = any bird of prey  
Hlessi = a rabbit without a warren to call home  
Homba = fox  
Hrair = thousand; any number over four  
Hraka = droppings - can be used as a curse  
Inlé = moon  
Iron Road = railroad  
Marli = mother rabbit  
Ni-Frith = noon  
Owsla = a rabbit warren's defence unit  
Pylon Line = power lines  
Rah = leader, Chief Rabbit  
Silf = outdoors, on surface of ground (out of burrows)  
Silflay = eat outside  
Stop Running = die  
Tharn = state of shock and paralysis

General Hrair 

  
A Watership Down Fan Fiction by Bill Welch 

  
Prologue 

  
  
"Or suppose a king is about to go to war against another king. Will he not first sit down and consider whether he is able with ten thousand men to oppose the one coming against him with twenty thousand?" 

Luke 14:31, NIV 

  
General Hrair was raised by an accountant in a small town west of London for the first year of his life. During that time, he had a great life with the accountant's children - all of whom were greatly impressed upon by their father to become accountants, as well. 

As a result, all of the children's toys were based on counting - such as an abacus, or anything that could be counted - marbles, numbered blocks, coloured toothpicks, etc. 

The children, who really loved their pet bunny, seemed to think the rabbit should be an accountant as well. They were only aged six to eight and didn't know any better, as some young children who try to "teach" human things to their pets. 

What they didn't know was that all of their time demonstrating the art of basic arithmetic to their pet began to rub off. The term "hrair" lost meaning to General Hrair, and he soon could count to ten, twenty, one hundred, even one thousand. So, when every other rabbit thought five to one thousand and beyond was just "hrair" - a number as mind-boggling as the number "googol" is to humans - General Hrair could actually tell the difference. 

The advantage of this unique ability didn't do much for General Hrair until after his escape from his human masters. He eventually realized the power of his talent, and dreamed of being a chief rabbit of unequaled power and ability. Even though he was pained to leave his human friends, he had to try realize his dream. 

The children would often take General Hrair for long walks in a nearby forest park. There was a lead required by law for restraining all pets, but the children circumvented this, as they couldn't be bothered, and as well, General Hrair had always been so attached to the humans that he wouldn't have wanted to run away. Until one day, when his dream finally overpowered his attachment to the human family. 

General Hrair waited for the children's attention to be captured by something - in this case, an unusually large butterfly, and then made his move. He bolted away into the forest, leaving the children shocked and heartbroken. How would they explain this to their parents? As it turned out, they just got another rabbit, and the family thought no more of General Hrair. 

But General Hrair's new life was just beginning.

Part One 

  
Once he had escaped, General Hrair went to the nearest warren that he could find. His reception was not what he expected - the rabbits ran in fear, and one actually attacked him rather viciously, tearing a chunk out of his hide. After that encounter, he went on his way and later managed to corner a young buck rabbit, probably the same age as General Hrair himself, who was shivering with fear, in a hollow log. 

"Why is every rabbit so frightened of me?" asked General Hrair. 

"Because - you smell of.... humans," said the rabbit, "and that makes you a monster to us." 

Given this revelation, General Hrair said, "Wait here - I'll be right back", and immediately was on his way to correct the situation. After an hour of swimming in a nearby river, he returned to the young rabbit and asked if he was still frightened of him. 

"Well, that's better - no trace of humans at all - but you _ are_ a pet to humans, right?" 

"NO," said General Hrair firmly, "NOT anymore. I have escaped, and I intend to stay free. Now, if you would be so kind, could you take me to your warren? I wish to get my wild life started off on the right foot." 

"All right, I guess that couldn't hurt. Follow me. By the way, my name is Poplar, and I hope to make the Owsla some day." 

"My name is...." General Hrair had been named "Fluffy" by the children, but that name just didn't fit with his grandiose dreams, so he went on, "My name is Hrair." His title "General" was earned later. 

"Nice to meet you, Hrair - this way, then." 

Once at the warren, General Hrair noticed with some dismay that the rabbit who had attacked him was the chief rabbit. But, with the scent of humans gone, the reception was much warmer. 

"Welcome, hlessi. My name is Ivy-Rah. Welcome to my warren. Sorry about earlier - I hope you understand." 

"Oh, no problem," said General Hrair, who was still sore, "I'm sure I would do the same thing in your position." He added, "Poplar here tells me he wants to be in the Owsla. I was hoping I could get a shot at it, too." 

Ivy-Rah considered this. "Well," he said, "I suppose that couldn't hurt. How are your fighting skills?" 

"Well, being raised by humans, pretty poor," admitted General Hrair, "But I did learn something from them which I think could be of great value to you..." 

The Chief Rabbit was not impressed by a non-fighter wanting to be in the Owsla, but he decided to give the new rabbit a chance to show his "talent". After all, one of the most popular aspects of the Chief Rabbit was his willingness to listen to potentially crazy ideas, and he didn't want to make a bad impression on his warren. 

"All right, Hrair, let's see it." 

"OK, first of all, has your warren ever been at war?" 

"Of course it has," huffed Ivy-Rah, "and we have won all but one of them." 

"All but one?" 

"Yes..." said the Chief, wondering where this was leading. 

"Why did you lose the war that you did?" 

"Well, we basically were overpowered." The Chief wondered why General Hrair was focusing on the negative. 

"You couldn't count them all beforehand, right? Nor could you count yourselves. It was just hrair versus hrair, right? But _ their_ hrair was bigger than _ your_ hrair." 

"Yes, of course." The Chief was getting exasperated at General Hrair focusing on the obvious. 

"Well, I could have counted us _ and_ them _ exactly_, so as to ascertain whether we had the advantage of numerical superiority," said General Hrair, doing a poor job of hiding his pride, "Watch this trick." 

"What trick?" 

"Take a big pile of hrair pebbles and let me count them. Then, take away one, two, three, or four when I'm not looking." General Hrair knew that subtracting hrair from hrair would prove nothing to them - the number subtracted had to be known to them to prove his point. 

The rabbits took a pile of stones, which happened to number 27. After General Hrair counted them (while the rabbits looked on with amusement), he was sent out of the burrows. the rabbits removed two pebbles, leaving 25. When General Hrair returned, he quickly looked at the pile, and said, "Two pebbles were taken." 

The rabbits were shocked. To any other rabbit, 27 is hrair and 25 is hrair, making it impossible to tell how many stones would have been removed. Ivy-Rah insisted that this was a guess, and demanded that the trick be repeated. And it was, with bigger and bigger piles of pebbles. The rabbits could sense the size of the pebble pile, even without knowing the exact number. And General Hrair was right every time. 

"What does this mean to you?" General Hrair asked the Chief, with an air of triumph in is voice. 

Ivy-Rah replied, "I've never seen _ any_ rabbit that could do _ that_." 

"Yes - I can count your Owsla's troops, and an enemy Owsla's troops. I can tell you whether or not to attack." 

The Chief nodded, as the importance of General Hrair's talent became apparent. 

General Hrair decided that his talent was proven, and so went for the prize, saying, "Ivy-Rah, I wish to be the Captain of your Owsla." 

The current Captain, a huge buck by the name of Oaktrunk, began to protest, "But CHIEF, he's a hlessi, and I've been the Captain for a YEAR!" 

Ivy-Rah pondered this, then replied, "Well, Hrair, you will be on the Owsla for the next mission, but I must tell you that you will have to prove yourself in battle before you can be Captain." Oaktrunk looked relieved. 

"Fine," said General Hrair, "I'll prove myself soon enough." 

The first mission for General Hrair was not long in coming. A week later, one of the guards stamped the alarm of an approaching enemy - it was the rabbits that had dealt Ivy-Rah his only defeat - the rabbits from the Grotto Warren. General Hrair quickly went up to see how many enemy there were. 

"I see ten of them. We'll have to send in twenty to be sure of victory." he said, forgetting that the words "ten" and "twenty" meant nothing to the others. But, Ivy-Rah and his Owsla placed their trust in him as General Hrair counted off twenty rabbits to be sent in to attack. 

The battle was swift and decisive. The enemy were quickly routed and sent fleeing, squealing for their lives. Ivy-Rah was most impressed by this victory. He renamed Hrair as General Hrair, and promised him that he would quickly move up the Owsla ranks. 

But Oaktrunk was not impressed. He saw his position as Captain of the Owsla in jeopardy. As it is with anyone who is power-hungry, he put his own self ahead of the good of the warren, and began to plot against General Hrair. 

Oaktrunk began to spread fear about the newcomer in the form of rumours. Rumours that General Hrair was plotting to take over the warren and enslave them all for his power-hungry and paranoid purposes, much like the infamous General Woundwort. Oaktrunk slowly began to succeed, using the fact that General Hrair was human-raised as an indicator of evil. He also reminded Ivy-Rah of his first encounter with General Hrair. 

"Remember when you attacked him because he smelled of humans?" said Oaktrunk to the Chief when they were in an Owsla meeting from which General Hrair was absent due to patrol duty, "You really dealt that weakling a humiliating defeat. Don't think for an instant that he has forgotten, let alone forgiven. He is plotting his revenge on you, mark my word." It was in this way that Oaktrunk slowly began to turn the whole warren against General Hrair. 

When General Hrair returned from patrol, he was confronted by Ivy-Rah. "Is it true that you wish to dethrone me?" the Chief asked him, "Answer me!" 

General Hrair was taken off guard. "Wh-what is this ab-about?" he sputtered, genuinely confused. 

"Oh, don't play dumb with us!" cut in Oaktrunk, "You know very embleer well what this is about. I know your kind. You're power-hungry. Look at you! On your first day here, you wanted to be Captain of the Owsla! It took me until I had a year of training to get the job! And you wanted it on your FIRST DAY!" Oaktrunk's voice was rising to a barely containable rage. He continued on his verbal attack, "And just where were you on your patrol? You were consorting with the enemy, weren't you? You found the Grottons and counted them using your special talent to see that they were the biggest warren around, and you want to be on THEIR side instead, right?" 

Oaktrunk was not thinking logically, in his rage, as it wouldn't make sense for General Hrair to join a warren he had earlier attacked. Besides, he had no enemy scent on him, and he said so. 

"Oh, please, you little piece of hraka!" sputtered Oaktrunk, "You lost the human scent in water, didn't you, and you must have done the same thing to lose the enemy scent. And don't think I don't know your treacherous kind! You only attacked them to gain favour with us, and surely you've gained your peace with them to attack us now? RIGHT?!!! RIGHT?!!!!!!" 

General Hrair was completely taken off guard. The Chief Ivy-Rah was now looking at him with something akin to outright hostility. Obviously, he had bought into Oaktrunk's faulty and malicious story. 

"General Hrair, I'm giving you until sunset to leave my warren," hissed Ivy-Rah, "If we see you after that, consider yourself dead." 

General Hrair was shocked. It seems that his extraordinary talent couldn't overcome the fact that Oaktrunk had been in the warren his whole life, and served as Owsla Captain for a year. Oaktrunk had gained much trust, and he had used this trust against General Hrair, who had become a threat to Oaktrunk's position in the warren. Knowing that he couldn't overcome Oaktrunk's poisonous lies at this point, he simply turned away and left Ivy-Rah's warren, his dream shattered - for now. 

Part Two 

  
After his eviction from Ivy-Rah's warren, General Hrair left the area at a brisk pace, occasionally checking over his shoulder for any sign of Ivy's Owsla. All the while, he was brooding over what had just happened. He felt anger at the whole warren, especially Oaktrunk and Ivy. 

But by his nature, he couldn't stay angry for long. Perhaps it was a sense of patience perfected by his time with the humans, and the children who insisted on picking him up, hugging him half to death, and generally never leaving him alone. General Hrair thought sensibly about the last week's events. _ I chased my dream to quickly_, he thought to himself, _ I was too greedy. Yes, I made a mistake. It was wrong of me to push that far, that soon. Of course Oaktrunk would be threatened. I mean, he could have been more civil, but I pushed him first, whether I knew it or not_. 

Nevertheless, the accusations made by Oaktrunk still stung. Of course, General Hrair wasn't planning a _ coup d'etat_, or setting up an Efrafan warren. He did want to be a Chief Rabbit, though - but a kind and just Chief Rabbit. Much like the Hazel-Rah from Watership Down that he had heard about. He continued his reasoning, _ I should have made my intentions clearer - that I only wanted to gain experience, maybe even just help Ivy-Rah with running affairs, that if I were to run my own warren, it would be another warren, one I founded myself. That warren would not be a competitor or any enemy of any sort_. 

_ But most of all, I should have been more patient. Captain of the Owsla on the first day, indeed!_ He shuddered, _ How could I be so foolish? If only I could have the last week to live again..._

He considered going back to Ivy-Rah and explaining himself. But the Chief's words came back to him, "..._ consider yourself dead_." No, that would never do, not any time soon. He wouldn't stand a chance against Oaktrunk alone, not to mention Ivy's whole Owsla. 

Perhaps he could just return to the children and captivity. But, he would never get another chance to escape, he was certain, and his dream was just too strong to give up now. 

He would have to find another warren to fit into, one far enough away that he would not risk meeting either Ivy-Rah's warren or the Grotto Warren. General Hrair was certain that the Grottons would dearly love to have his hide too, for helping Ivy-Rah defeat them in that battle. 

As he wasn't able to locate such a warren before dusk, General Hrair settled on a large clump of bushes to shelter him for the coming night. 

*** 

In the Grotton main chamber, Chief Cypress was still enraged over his Owsla's defeat at the hands of Ivy. He had handed down swift punishment on all of the rabbits in the patrol that he had sent out. They were sentenced to a month in containment, without seeing the light of Frith. 

Captain Spleenwort had tried to explain, "Sir, there were too many of them. I've never seen Ivy's troops out like that before just to meet one of our patrols. It's as if they were expecting us and just threw all of their troops at us at once. It was hrair upon hrair of them. If they had sent a patrol of normal size, we should have defeated them. They didn't at all act as I expected they would." The Captain went on, "And, sir, one of their rabbits in particular - one by the name of Hrair - was staying out of the fight. He seemed to be in some authority, though I'd never seen him before. Their Captain is still that embleer Oaktrunk, but after the sordid affair was all over, I heard them treating Hrair like some kind of hero, though I must say Oaktrunk looked somewhat upset. When I was being held down by two of the hraka-silflayers, Hrair came up to me and told me that we would best leave Ivy alone, because of some gift that he had - he said he would always know EXACTLY how many of us there were, no matter how many. Whatever THAT meant." 

"Don't make excuses, Spleenwort, you are no longer Owsla Captain, and you will be in containment with the others," roared Cypress, "You have humiliated me before Ivy!" But Chief Cypress didn't completely discount Spleenwort's story, and was curious about this rabbit named Hrair. He would remember that name. But he had other matters to attend to now - like an invasion of Ivy-Rah's warren. Cypress would have been satisfied with the occasional battle over feeding grounds, but after what had happened now, he was determined to destroy his enemy for good. 

*** 

General Hrairah was indeed a good Chief. He was presiding over a feast to celebrate the most successful harvest ever. There was enough food to feed his huge warren twice over for the coming winter, so he invited the neighbouring warrens, including Ivy-Rah's warren and the now-peaceful Grotto Warren to the feast as well. There was flayrah such as carrots, lettuce, cabbage, and cowslip, and all manner of normal flay aplenty. He recognized one of Ivy-Rah's Owsla approaching him - it was Poplar, the first one he had talked to from Ivy-Rah's warren long ago. Poplar put his paw on General Hrair's head in an informal salute, saying, "You're the best thing to ever happen to El-ahrairah's people. May Frith bless you forever, General Hrairah...." 

"General Hrair. General Hrair!" 

He slowly became aware of a paw on his head, and without opening his eyes, the fact that it was now well after sunrise, based on the warmth of day. He had slept long from exhaustion. Someone was calling his name in a hushed voice, right over his drooped ears. General Hrair opened his eyes and stared up at the one who had woken him. It was Poplar. His first reaction was to turn and run, lest the rest of Ivy's Owsla be nearby. But Poplar stopped him by wrapping both of his paws around General Hrair's neck. Poplar used his greater strength to impede his escape. 

"No, no, General Hrair, it's all right, I'm not out to get you!" said Poplar in the same hushed tone. 

"Wh-where are they, wh-why w-won't you just leave me be?" stuttered General Hrair, glancing this way and that, expecting at any moment to be set upon by Ivy's entire Owsla, with Oaktrunk at the lead. 

"They? I'm all alone right now, sir. I'm on a _ hobaring_." 

"A what?" 

"Sorry, sir. That's an assignment to get into the Owsla. If I succeed, I have two more exercises and I'm a Junior Officer. I'll be in!" 

"An assignment to capture traitors?", inquired General Hrair, with fear and a trace of loathing in his voice. 

Poplar rolled his eyes and sighed, "_ No_, sir, I'm _ telling_ you, I'm not out to get you. The hobaring is where I am given directions to a certain stone hidden far out on the silf. Then, I am sent out on my own to find the stone and bring it back to the warren. The stone was placed there by Oaktrunk some time ago just for this exercise, and he will recognize it when I bring it back. He does this exercise for every Owsla hopeful." 

General Hrair relaxed somewhat, and sensing this, Poplar released his grip. General Hrair inquired, "But how did you find me? Why did you wake me? What do you want?" 

"I was lucky enough to catch your scent about an hour ago or so. It's good fortune that the hobaring sent me in the same general direction that you took. I followed the scent here. And why did I wake you up? For two reasons. First, I want you to know that I don't believe that you are the threat that you've been made out to be. After all, if you were, you'd be in Grotto by now. Second, I was hoping that you could teach me that trick of yours. It must be so great being able to count like that." 

General Hrair looked at Poplar, unsure of what to make of this. Was Poplar lulling him into a false sense of security prior to coaxing him to come along to his capture and execution? But, looking into Poplar's eyes, he sensed that this Owsla hopeful was being truthful. "Well, that's good to hear. Are there any others that might also have that point of view - about me, I mean?" 

"Well, I'm afraid I don't know of anyone else, sir, but it's rather tense back there right now, as you may appreciate. There may be some who feel the same as I do, but they'll keep their mouths shut lest they be branded as traitors, as well." 

A sigh escaped General Hrair, "Well, now you've told me that you trust me, but about teaching you counting... I don't know if that is possible. I spent my first year being taught counting by human children. They are _ very_ good at teaching, you know..." 

The concept of being taught by humans made Poplar shiver. "Well, I'm willing to learn. Of course, I don't know _ how_ I will be able to meet with you very often. The hobaring is the only time I'll be alone on the silf for the foreseeable future. Perhaps, if I make the Owsla, I could find others who trust you like I do, and we could go on 'patrols' to meet with you... NO! I'm being ridiculous! This will never work!" Poplar stamped the ground in frustration. "Well, let me just say this: I trust you, General Hrair, and I hope someday things can be made right between you and Ivy-Rah. I guess I should get going with the hobaring." 

"Wait - you say you are all alone for this exercise?" queried General Hrair. 

"Yes, it's part of the test." 

"Well, I _ could_ go along with you to find this stone, and teach you along the way..." 

Poplar started, "Oh sir, I don't know, that would be....", then he thought to himself, _ Cheating? Not really, as long as  I'm doing the navigating. What could it hurt? Who's to know? Besides, what better opportunity_? He turned back to General Hrair, saying, "Sure! It's a deal!" 

Taken somewhat aback by Poplar's shift from apprehension to outright acceptance, General Hrair said, "Don't worry, we won't be caught.", then thought,_ We'd better not be..._ before continuing, "And I won't say a word to help you, in case you think I'm an unfair advantage." 

"Thank you, sir, I wouldn't want it any other way... I mean, not that I _ want_ you to be quiet, um, oh - you know what I mean!" 

General Hrair couldn't help but chuckle, "I know, Poplar. Lead the way, if you will."

Part Three 

  
"So, how many petals does this flower have, again?" asked General Hrair. 

Poplar thought for a moment. "Five, then. Right?" 

"Exactly! You see, you're getting the hang of it! And how about this one?" General Hrair pointed out a six-petaled flower. 

"Um... What was that again? Oh, I should remember this one!" 

"It rhymes with tricks." 

"Six! That's right, I knew that..." Poplar put a paw to his face in embarrassment. 

To Poplar, or any other rabbit, learning to count past four would be like a human learning a second language. Many people go through their lives speaking only their native tongue simply because there is never a need to learn another language. They just live and travel where their language is readily spoken. Virtually anybody has the ability to learn another language, though in adulthood, this task becomes more difficult. Childhood is the ideal time for learning to speak languages - and to count, for that matter, and the children had taught General Hrair when he was in his first year. 

Poplar had never needed to know numbers past four. A rabbit has four paws, and that is that. For countless generations, it has been so. Even El-ahrairah didn't have to count past four. 

"All right, then, " said General Hrair, "let's apply this to something else." He put together two small piles of pebbles - one of four and one of six. "How many pebbles are in each pile?" 

Poplar handled the first one easily enough, "Four." Then, "One, two, three, four... five... um, Six." 

"Right! Now then, how many more pebbles are in this pile than the other one?" General Hrair pointed to the six-pebble pile. 

General Hrair could see that Poplar was stumped. He offered, "Okay then, here's a hint." He separated four of the six pebbles and covered them with his paws. "Now how many do you see?" 

"Two." 

"How many am I covering?" General Hrair briefly lifted his paws. 

"Um... Four." 

"So, how much more is six than four?" 

Poplar thought for a minute before it dawned on him. "_ Two!_ Two more!" 

"Yes! You can do it, my friend!" General Hrair patted Poplar on the head in congratulations. 

"Wow," mused Poplar, "this is going to make bobstones a whole lot more interesting..." 

"Well, we're not going to just stop at six, you know. Spiders have eight legs; that's good to know, too." 

"Please, sir, you're bending my mind enough as it is!" said Poplar, although he truly wanted to learn more as quickly as he could. 

General Hrair let out a laugh, "Don't worry. That's enough for now. We've plenty of time." Then he considered, "How long do you have for your hobaring, anyway?" 

"Well, the hobaring is always to be completed within a quarter cycle of Inlé. The hobaring stone is always put a long way out there. After a quarter cycle, you are considered to have failed, and Oaktrunk sends out a search party. As you might imagine, that happens quite a lot. And sometimes the failed Owsla candidates aren't found - presumably taken by elil." 

General Hrair shuddered. "Ah. That's about a week then. Seven days. Seven is only one more than six. Which means we have plenty of time yet." 

Poplar groaned. Another number to remember. "This is going to be a long road. I mean to find the stone, and to learn to count." 

"Don't worry, you can do it," assured General Hrair, "Now, where are we going, again?" 

"Let's see," Poplar went over his instructions from Oaktrunk again, "He said to go west until I hit the pylon line, then to turn north, and follow the pylon line to a set of twin iron roads. When we get to that point, we'll follow the iron roads... Well, it's quite convoluted, really. But I've got it all right here." Poplar pointed to his head. Indeed, rabbits, like many animals without the benefit of reading, have the ability to store complex routes and mental maps in memory. It is a necessity for survival. 

The pylon line lay about a mile ahead of them. The lofty wires were visible above the trees standing on the other side of the clearing that they had just entered. Along the way to the base of the first pylon, Poplar managed to learn counting up to nine. General Hrair would have been satisfied with Poplar's progress to six for the day, but Poplar insisted on continuing his lessons. 

"So, Poplar, are you ready for the big number?" asked General Hrair as they reached the base of the pylon. 

"What is the big number?" 

"It's ten. The humans base their whole number system on it - that's how many fingers they have on their hands. After ten, the numbers start to cycle. Although, I must admit, the teen's took a while to grasp." General Hrair noticed the confused look on Poplar's face with some amusement, and added, "Not to worry. You've done a GREAT job so far. You're learning far more quickly than I did." Of course, General Hrair hadn't the faintest clue what the human children had been saying (other than the pronunciation of the numbers themselves), or what the significance was of what they were showing him for the longest time. But both he and Poplar could understand each other perfectly, and both understood what the lesson being taught was, and its significance. That meant that General Hrair could explain everything (and he was a good teacher, indeed), and Poplar could advance his knowledge much more quickly. 

Noting that it was getting quite late, General Hrair said, "Perhaps we should spent the night around here - that rose bush there should be good protection, with the thorns and scent to cover us. We'll continue the lessons tomorrow." 

"Agreed. I can't wait!" enthused Poplar. That night, Poplar dreamed of counting all of the stars, though he knew not what the number was. 

When the second day of the trip dawned, as General Hrair had expected, the teen's were a bit of trouble. It took a while for Poplar to realize that there was a cycle, that eleven was related to one, twelve was related to two, _ et cetera_. The rabbits didn't see the digits of the numbers in their head, as humans do, but they could visualize the number they were concentrating on by seeing so many pebbles, or trees. So, they could know that there were eleven pebbles in a pile, without visualizing the digit one twinned to make up the number eleven. 

As they passed each pylon, General Hrair made a mental note of how many they had passed - just in case they ever got lost - but only if it was absolutely necessary would he help Poplar find their way back. The pylon line didn't remain straight - it wove its way around obstacles such as towns and lakes. This made the risk of getting lost a lot higher. Fortunately, neither of the two rivers they had to cross were too wide or swift to cross. After all, Oaktrunk had to make this same trip to hide the stone in the first place. By the time they had passed fifty of the widely-spaced pylons (which took nearly the whole second day), Poplar had managed to learn the numbers through to nineteen. He beamed with pride as he practiced his new skill with General Hrair's well-thought-out quizzes. 

"How many trees are there in that grove?" 

"One, two, three, four, five, six." counted Poplar. 

"If there were two birds in each tree, how many birds would there be?" 

Poplar tried to work that one out in his mind for a while, then after a minute, General Hrair suggested that he use a pile of pebbles. Poplar set out six pebbles for each tree, then two pebbles by each of the "trees" to represent birds. He counted the birds, "One, two, three...," Poplar counted with ease through the first numbers, "eight, nine... um, ten, um, eleven, umm... Twelve! There would be twelve birds!" 

"Excellent! Now, for another difficult one. How many pebbles are there altogether?" 

"Umm...," Poplar concentrated, pointing to the first "tree", pausing, then offering, "that's thirteen... right?" General Hrair nodded, smiling that Poplar had remembered those unusual numbers after ten, and Poplar continued, "four- um, fourteen, fiveteen..." 

"Fifteen," General Hrair corrected, "I know, this part is tricky." 

"Sorry, fifteen... sixteen, seventeen... and... eighteen, right?" 

"You are a good student, Poplar. Well done! Now, what is exactly half of eighteen?" 

Poplar groaned. _ Is this test ever going to end?_ He put the pebbles into two groups, each with the same number of pebbles, and quickly counted up to nine. General Hrair was plainly pleased with the progress that Poplar was making. He knew that it was essential to not just teach the numbers, but the arithmetic as well, as this would ensure that Poplar was actually understanding the numbers, how much more one was than another, or how much less. 

Five pylons further down, the came across the double iron road. "Which way, Poplar?" asked General Hrair. 

"Oaktrunk said, 'towards where Frith sets.' Which, quite handily, is happening right now. He must have timed this whole exercise to the precise moment." 

"Perhaps he did," replied General Hrair, "We'd best get some sleep. We can follow the iron roads tomorrow." 

They found shelter for the night in a culvert underneath one of the iron roads. Fortunately for them, the trains didn't run at night, lest the noise wake the numerous residents in the area. There had been an overwhelming number of complaints to the county governments many years before, and the train schedules were modified. Had the trains been running at night, it is quite likely both rabbits would have stopped running from heart attacks. 

The next day, the third day, they got up with Frith, and started their way westward between the two railroads. While teaching Poplar to count past twenty, General Hrair challenged him to count the iron roads' ties as they passed them. On two occasions, they were passed by trains: one passenger train, and one freight train, one on each track. The rabbits kept well clear as soon as they heard the trains roaring towards them, and waited in the bushes as they passed. The passenger train had only fifteen cars, so Poplar could count them as they passed (he proudly pronounced "fifteen" correctly). But the freight train had sixty-six cars. Poplar watched in awe as General Hrair rattled off the numbers which he would soon be learning. 

By Ni-Frith, they had found the next landmark that Poplar was seeking: a stone hut by the iron roads. From there, the distance between landmarks became much less, and the number of landmarks to search for increased. General Hrair soon understood what Poplar had meant when he had said that the instructions from Oaktrunk were convoluted. 

From the stone hut, they traveled for a half hour down a dirt path to a small river, then followed the near bank of the river to the first dead birch tree that they found. They immediately crossed the river, and found another dirt path which lead to into a forest that was nearly jungle-like with undergrowth. They searched for certain trees according to Oaktrunk's instructions, each tree made obvious by their size or their freakish contortions, and by nightfall, they had found the tree that they were looking for: a dead cedar, with a trunk long ago hollowed out by parasites and rot. Inside the cedar's trunk was the hobaring stone: a white stone with several curious markings and various colours, surrounded by four black stones. The arrangement of the black stones were to make it obvious that _ this_ was the hobaring stone. 

Poplar was overjoyed. "It's only been three days," he stated proudly, "If it takes three days to get back, I'll have one to spare." He didn't realize that simple math was becoming second-nature to him. 

"Well, done, Poplar," said General Hrair, "You deserve to make the Owsla, no doubt in my mind. Well, since it's nearly Frith-set, and this tree offers plenty of shelter, we may as well spend the night here." 

Poplar went to sleep while counting bobstones in his head. By this point, he could count to forty-nine. 

Part Four 

  
The skies were darkening; the thunder was drawing near. "Hurry, sir! The homba is right behind us! We've only got to get to the river!" Poplar was looking behind him at the snarling homba, the look in its eyes bent on the blood of rabbits. General Hrair was just ahead of him, dashing madly to the river, which was so tantalizingly near. The homba took a swipe at Poplar, who emitted a squeal as he felt the claws rake his back. He redoubled his speed and was just getting up to General Hrair as both rabbits plunged into the river. They looked back at their would-be killer, which spat an incomprehensible curse at them. It made as if to jump in after them, but thought better of it. The current was too swift, the river too wide, the water too cold to risk just for a meal. 

Indeed, the river was swift, wide, and cold. Both rabbits gasped for air as the water sucked the energy from them. They soon lost the feeling in their limbs; their strength ebbed, and within two minutes the pair were floating helplessly, pulled along by the current. Drowning was certain, but anything was better than the savage jaws of their pursuer. Looking up, Poplar saw another more immediate threat: a large bird, an eagle (or "hawk" in lapine) by appearance, had spotted them and was swooping down for an easy meal. 

"Sir, look out! Hawk right behind us! We've got to get to shore!" 

But not only would that have been physically impossible, with the current and their dead limbs, but the homba was stalking the side of the river, waiting for them to return. The eagle was only seconds away, and was aiming for Poplar. He closed his eyes tight, and tried diving to avoid the strike. But to no avail. Suddenly, a searing pain stabbed his spine as merciless talons closed in. Immediately after, he felt a sickening jerk and acceleration upwards as the eagle regained height. Lightning flashed and struck a tree on the near bank of the river, which promptly exploded into a shower of slivers. The thunder was instantaneous and deafening. Already losing consciousness from shock and blood loss, he looked down at the dwindling form of General Hrair, floating helplessly in the drowning river. Poplar shrieked as loudly as he could, but his scream slowly faded as he went tharn... 

"Poplar, wake up! _ Poplar_!" General Hrair was shaking him violently. 

Poplar started awake and jumped up, screaming, "Sir! Sir! Where is it? Where is it?" 

"Where is what? You were dreaming, Poplar." 

Poplar stopped and considered his situation. He felt a sharp pain in his back, he looked back and saw blood. The talons... 

"You cut yourself on that sliver there when you were thrashing around," said General Hrair, motioning to a bloody point on their tree trunk shelter, and thus answering Poplar's unasked question. 

Poplar's pulse slowly returned to normal, and he sighed with relief. 

"Well," said Poplar meekly, "I guess we should be going now." He added in a near whisper, "Sorry about that." 

"Think nothing of it. Bad dreams happen to everybody. Do you want to rest a bit before we leave?" 

"No, that's all right, " replied Poplar, "The sooner we leave the better." He picked up the hobaring stone in his mouth and started out. 

The journey back during the fourth day of the hobaring was largely a silent one, given that Poplar was unable to speak while carrying the stone. _ I wish we had Watership Down's Blackberry with us_, he thought, _ I heard he could figure anything out. He could've made this stone easier to carry_. The stone wasn't all that heavy, but over time carrying it became tiring. General Hrair offered to carry it several times, but Poplar refused by shaking his head, indicating that it was _ his_ hobaring to complete. 

The pair occasionally stopped for a numerical lesson. This time around, three trains passed, and Poplar proudly counted off one string of thirty-six cars, and another of fifty-two cars. But General Hrair had to handle the one with eighty-five cars. By the time that they had made their way back to the pylon line, at the end of the fourth day, Poplar had mastered the numbers up to seventy-nine. He was making excellent progress. 

Before falling asleep in the culvert that had sheltered them before, they talked about future plans. 

"I can't wait to show you one hundred - I'm sure you'll be ready tomorrow." 

"I can't wait either, sir. I guess we only have three days left in the hobaring for you to teach me." 

"Poplar, I was hoping that you may be able to explain the truth about me to Ivy when you return," said General Hrair, "Surely he can see reason..." 

Poplar bit his lip. "Well, I can try, sir. But the mere mention of your name is liable to earn me a good cuff or two." 

"I understand. Well, be sure to use your new ability more wisely than I did." 

"Don't worry, sir. I'm sure that the issue will cool down enough in time for me to bring it up. And I just know that there are others who don't see you as a traitor. And you didn't use counting unwisely at all, sir. Without you, we couldn't have defeated the Grottons. It's not your fault Oaktrunk is so jealous." 

"It _ is_ my fault," General Hrair sighed, "I was too impatient for climbing the warren's political ladder." 

Poplar knew inside that General Hrair was probably right, but he didn't want to say it openly. "Well, I still think you were treated most ungratefully. I'll talk to Ivy-Rah about you as soon as I think it's safe, I promise." 

"Thanks, Poplar." 

Now, at the dawn of the fifth day, there was the pylon line to re-navigate. The weather was clear and the wind calm; there was nothing to impede their progress. They had traveled about half of the length of the line by Ni-Frith. General Hrair knew they were halfway up the line by counting the pylons, while Poplar knew by noting the height of Frith in the sky and knowing that it had taken about a full day to travel the pylon line earlier. Though Poplar could count the pylons now, if he wanted to, he couldn't yet on their first pass. Also, they were nearing one of the rivers that they had previously crossed. After several stops for lessons, Poplar now could count to ninety-nine. General Hrair was ready to teach him about one hundred and beyond. But, the opportunity never arose. 

During the entire morning of the fifth day, the heat and humidity had been building up, and by Ni-Frith, dark clouds were already presenting themselves on the horizon opposite of where the travelers were headed, and were approaching rapidly. The winds had been quite brisk and blowing directly at them, as the storm's updraft drew in air. Because of this, both rabbits were extra cautious of what was behind them - downwind, where they couldn't sense danger. They periodically checked behind them for any tracking elil, but failed to see that a lone homba had picked up their scent and was slowly slinking up behind them, hiding in the tall grass in perfect camouflage. As they neared the river, they crossed an open stretch of gravel, upon which the homba's cloak would vanish. The predator hesitated before entering the gravel bar, neither wanting to break its cover, nor wishing to let them get out of range of an ambush. It quickly decided to move in for the kill. 

Just then, a bright light flashed, almost immediately followed by the tremendous crash of a thunderclap. Both rabbits and the homba turned around to see the shards of a stricken tree settle on the ground not more than two hundred feet away. Then the rabbits instantaneously noticed their stalker. The homba turned back, and realized that it had been seen. Not wanting to lose any more advantage, it instantly sprang to the chase. 

The rabbits froze for only a second, before bolting for the river. Poplar immediately dropped his hobaring stone in the process, moaning, "Oh, no. This is my dream become a reality." As they plunged into the river, with the homba only a few feet away, the rain began to fall like a waterfall. The usually serene surface of the slow-moving river was churned into a maelstrom by the assault of water upon water as the rabbits made their way to the other side. Upon looking back, they realized that the homba wasn't following. It was considering the situation: It was already soaked, so swimming the river wouldn't make a difference now. But, it had a family to feed, and that family was on its side of the river. It knew that by the time it might take to catch the rabbits, the storm will have swollen the river, thus making it impassable, and thus would cut it off from its family. After giving the rabbits a cold stare, it turned back and disappeared, though its unmistakable scent remained, even in the pouring rain. 

As the storm raged on, and the river rose, Poplar debated about going back for his hobaring stone. 

"No, Poplar, that homba is just waiting for you," said General Hrair, trying to hold him back, "The hobaring isn't worth dying over." 

"It is worth dying for. We've lost good rabbits to hobarings before. Why not me?" 

"_ Poplar_!", shouted General Hrair, shaking him, "Think sensibly! Going back over there would be suicidal. Don't you have any loved ones back at the warren? Wait until it is safe. You can go back later; we have a day to spare, remember?" 

Poplar thought of his mate, Pearl, and their three kittens. He grudgingly agreed and sat down, the anxiety obvious on his face. He watched the river rising slowly, filling the gravel bar where he had dropped the hobaring stone. Before long, the stone had disappeared under the water. Poplar hoped against hope that it wouldn't wash away. He made as if to jump in, but General Hrair again stopped him, saying, "No, Poplar, if not the homba, then the current - it's too swift; you'll be drowned." Poplar gave up and relaxed again. 

"Come on," said General Hrair, "Let's get away from the bank. The homba should give up and leave if it thinks we won't come back." They hopped into the forest for some distance and took shelter under a fallen tree. 

The storm eased by late afternoon, and by evening the sun was presenting itself in the western sky. General Hrair and Poplar made their way back to the now-calming river. The gravel bar was still mostly submerged, but the water was slowly retreating. Poplar looked earnestly towards where the he hoped the hobaring stone would still be, but there was no sign of it. As the smell of the homba was gone, the rabbits made their way back to the other shore and scoured the gravel bar, but to no avail. Poplar was devastated. He turned on General Hrair. 

"This is _ your_ fault! I could have had the stone, and now it's gone _ forever_!" shouted Poplar raising a paw as if to cuff, and added in rage, "You _ are_ a traitor! I'll have the Owsla on you!" But instead of striking, he lay down on the wet gravel and buried his face in his paws. 

General Hrair waited a minute before saying calmly, "You don't really mean that. I know what making the Owsla means to you, but you would have been killed if you went back..." 

Poplar, without looking up, sobbed, "I know. I'm sorry, sir; I'll never make Owsla now." 

"Well, we may as well keep looking; we have some time," said General Hrair, although he knew the hobaring stone was gone. 

By the time darkness had fallen on the fifth day, General Hrair and a dejected Poplar went back to the fallen tree to find shelter for the night. 

Poplar slept uneasily, dreaming of the mocking, the taunting, and the rejection. He feared that Pearl would want the lapine equivalent of a divorce.

Part Five 

  
While Poplar dreamt of the consequences of his hobaring failure, a meeting was under way in Chief Cypress' burrow at Grotto Warren. Chief Cypress looked at the new leader of the Grotton Owsla, Captain Ajowan. "Present your plan to me, Captain. I want Ivy-Rah finished for good." 

"Well, sir, after this morning's strategy session, I believe we have the solution. We are planning a three-stage attack." 

Cypress nodded, impressed. He liked plans that involved increased complexity. Indeed, Ajowan shared his strategic mind. Ajowan continued, "We are going to send out scouting parties ahead to take up positions around Ivy-Rah's warren and along routes that his Owsla are known to take for exploration and flay-gathering. We have assigned messengers to ferry information between the scout groups. When the scouts are in place and are certain of the whereabouts of all of Ivy's Owsla, they will wait until later in Fu-Inlé, and launch an attack on the main warren. This attack is meant to draw his troops out of their warren and into the surrounding area - out on the silf. We plan to perform strategic retreats to accomplish this. Then, by the time Frith rises, your main attack force can set on them and finish them off. They will have nowhere to hide. Then, we can attack the warren itself, as it is certain to have a depleted guard. We can abduct their does if you wish. But the bucks and kittens will not be allowed to survive - not one." 

A wicked grin split Cypress' face. Indeed, Ajowan shared his strategic mind. He had picked the right Captain to replace Spleenwort, no doubt about that. "Excellent, Captain Ajowan!" said Cypress, "When are you going to begin this plan?" 

"Well, sir, if you don't mind, as soon as possible. Our troops are willing and ready to go." 

"Well, let's be cautious. Tomorrow will be a day for my personal briefings with all scout captains and the main assault captains. Then, begin your plan on the next day. I want that humiliation erased from history forever. No warren has ever defeated us, and no warren will survive an unprovoked challenge to us!" Cypress stressed the word "humiliation". 

"Sir, we will be victorious. I promise you, they will _ not_ expecting this at all." 

*** 

As they made their way to the point where they started their journey up the pylon line four days earlier, General Hrair couldn't help feeling some guilt over what had happened. Several times, he started to apologize to Poplar, who waved the apologies off, saying, "No, it's not your fault. It was just never meant to be. Perhaps, when I can talk some sense into Ivy-Rah about you, I can use my counting skills to make the Owsla. I will always be indebted to you, sir." 

"I just can't help but to think that I interfered," mused General Hrair. 

"Interfered? I invited you, and I doubt I would have made it without you. But that's the thing. The hobaring is supposed to be a solitary exercise. I'm afraid I was cheating from the start. You see, Frith saw justice done in the end." Poplar was becoming more accepting of what had occurred. 

General Hrair sighed, "I hope you realize your dream, Poplar. You deserve it." 

There were no more counting lessons. Poplar was too depressed for the effort, and felt quite accomplished counting to ninety-nine. General Hrair assured him that there would be plenty of time for more lessons in the future, when the politics in Ivy-Rah's warren allowed him to return. 

It was Ni-Frith of the hobaring's sixth day when they reached the turnoff point from the pylon line. By evening, they were approaching the point where Poplar discovered the sleeping General Hrair. From here, it was a half-day trip to Ivy-Rah's warren. After the grueling trip, both were tired, and since Poplar was now within easy distance of home, they decided to relax for a few hours before nightfall. 

Poplar talked about his mate, Pearl, and the kittens: the bucks Flax and Tobacco, and the doe Sapphire . The pride in his voice as a father was evident. "Sapphire is always helping gather flay for the family, and she helped dig a new burrow before I left on the hobaring. Not bad for two months old. Flax and Tobacco are always wrestling - I guess they both want to be in the Owsla someday." Poplar looked down at this, "I guess they'll not be too happy with me. And I am still afraid to hear what Pearl will say." 

General Hrair tried to hide rolling his eyes. "Tell you what, " he said, "If you stop being so hard on yourself, I'll stop being hard on myself. What happened is just unfortunate. They'll understand. Ivy and Oaktrunk aren't without heart. I'm sure they'll give you another chance. They _ need_ you in the Owsla. I know it, you know it, and they know it. One little failed exercise can't stop that. It is _ not_ the end of the world. So what do you say? Shall we both stop being miserable?" 

Poplar sighed. He knew it wasn't exactly a little exercise, but he remembered the Owsla rule. A second chance was always provided, however, any failed exercise would have to be performed twice before proceeding. He sighed again, and, gaining a second wind, said, "All right: no more moping for either of us. You're right; it's not the end of the world. I can make this up, with two hobarings. If one falls off of the homba, one climbs back on." 

General Hrair shuddered, "Who came _ up_ with that saying? Some suicidal maniac?" 

"Probably. But whoever made it up must have survived to coin it, right?" Both laughed. 

"Well, what do you say we get some sleep? Tomorrow is a new day." 

Poplar smiled. Another cliché. "Good night, sir." 

*** 

"All right! Does everyone understand their objectives?" Chief Cypress looked intensely at his scout captains and attack captains. They all nodded. They had spent the entire day, which was also the sixth day of Poplar's hobaring, touching up their strategies and their enemies' anticipated countermoves, like master chess players. He continued, to drill the agreed instructions into their heads even further: "Crabgrass! Foxtail! Blackwood! I want you and your troops to start out at Frith's rise tomorrow and take up hidden positions near the main paths used by Ivy's Owsla! I want to know the positions and movements of all Ivy Owsla troops! Sorrel! Pokeweed! Thrift! You and your troops are to take up hidden positions within easy distance of Ivy's warren! Snowdrift! You are to go with Crabgrass; report between him, Foxtail, Blackwood, and Captain Ajowan! Rainbow! You are to go with Sorrel; report between him, Pokeweed, Thrift, and Captain Ajowan! Captain Ajowan, you are to report all events to me! The initial assault by Sorrel, Pokeweed, and Thrift will occur during the Fu-Inlé following initial positions being taken tomorrow, and will be supplemented by attacks by Crabgrass, Foxtail, and Blackwood! Captain Ajowan and myself and the main assault force will be stationed at the agreed point. We will lead the main assault when the word is given, and that should be at the following Frith-rise!" 

The messengers, Snowdrift and Rainbow, were chosen because they were small does, so they would be less likely to draw suspicion should any of Ivy-Rah's warren spot them, and because they were very quick, lest they ever did draw suspicion. 

"Have a good sleep, troops! In two days, Ivy-Rah's warren will be no more!" 

*** 

Both General Hrair and Poplar had peaceful dreams that night. General Hrair again dreamed of being the great Rah of Hrair Warren, and Poplar again dreamed of counting the stars. In fact, Poplar was teaching El-ahrairah himself to count in this dream. 

Upon Frith-rise, both felt refreshed and ready to face whatever circumstance that fate may deal them. They traveled towards Ivy's warren until they felt they were at the limits of safety, lest one of Ivy's Owsla meet up with them. There, they said their farewells. 

"Sir, I can honestly say that you have been a blessing to me," said Poplar, "I trust that we will be able to meet again soon." 

"Thank you, Poplar. I'll find a warren somewhere that will take me in. But, if Ivy-Rah ever lifts the death sentence from my head, I'd love to come back. Perhaps we could meet at the pylon line once per full Inlé to catch up on news." 

"Sir, remember, until I'm in the Owsla, I won't be able to go out..." Poplar caught himself, "Wait a minute, I've got _ two_ hobarings to do now. Mind you, I don't know which direction they will take me, or when I will be going..." 

"I'm _ certain_ that you will be in the Owsla, Poplar. Every full Inlé, I'll wait by the pylon line until we meet up again. No matter how long." 

"Until then sir, farewell." 

"Frith bless you, Poplar." 

"You too, sir." 

And so Poplar went on ahead toward Ivy's warren. General Hrair stayed where he was, looking forlorn. About one minute after Poplar had gone around a bend in the trail, he suddenly heard a squeal of fright. It was unmistakably General Hrair. _ Oh, no!_ thought Poplar, _ Not elil. Not this way. Not now!_ Keeping off the trail and under cover, Poplar made his way back to where he had left General Hrair. He couldn't believe his eyes. 

General Hrair was being pinned down by two large rabbits. Since everyone in the Grottons' earlier attack was still in confinement, none of these rabbits were recognizable by sight to General Hrair. But, their scent was beyond doubt. "What do you GROTTONS want?" said General Hrair, stressing the one word very carefully and loudly. Fortunately, his assailants didn't catch on to his intent. 

Poplar froze at the word "Grottons". 

"Identify yourself! Why are you alone? Where is the rest of your patrol?" demanded one of the Grottons. The other stood by menacingly, but remained silent during the interrogation. 

"My name is Hrair," he replied, not realizing what jeopardy his truthful reply would put him in, "I don't know what you're talking about. I'm not on patrol." gasped General Hrair. 

His captors looked at each other upon hearing his name. "You're THE Hrair? The one in Ivy's Owsla?" 

"I'm not in the Owsla anymore. Ivy banished me from the warren." General Hrair was still being truthful, but now the Grottons were assuming that he was backtracking. 

"Don't play games with us, Hrair! We KNOW you. You're in Ivy's Owsla. You have a certain talent, no?" Just then, a small doe hopped into view, and the interrogator's attention turned to her. "Snowdrift! Report to Foxtail and Blackwood that we have captured an Ivy Owsla near our assigned position. And tell Rainbow to pass the message to Sorrel, Pokeweed and Thrift! Go! Quickly!" 

"Yes, sir, Crabgrass, right away!" The doe vanished again at top speed. 

"That will be _ Captain_ Crabgrass soon, " said the interrogator, smiling to himself, "Chief Cypress should be most impressed with me." He looked over at his companion, who seemed somewhat indignant, and added, "Don't worry, Thorn, you'll get some credit too." 

Poplar felt fear stab at his heart. He knew very well what a threat the Grottons were. The fact that they were back, so close to Ivy's warren, with at least SIX scout groups could only mean imminent disaster. _ I've got to find those scouts and report to Ivy immediately!_ thought Poplar desperately. He knew that finding them without being detected would be difficult at best. But his warren was depending on him, even if they didn't know it at the moment. _ This is better than any Owsla exercise,_ he thought bitterly to himself. 

By Ni-Frith, Poplar had located one other Grotto scout group. He counted eight rabbits, and learned that this was Blackwood's group, just by listening from the cover of nearby foliage until he heard one of the troops say, "Blackwood, sir, Snowdrift should have been here by now! Where is she?" Without making a noise, Poplar slipped away, searching for the other Grottons. He remembered to go back to Crabgrass' location and count his troops, as well. There were five there. 

Sometime before evening, using stealth tactics he didn't realize he knew before, Poplar found another Grotton scout group. When he counted them (there were nine) and confirmed that it was indeed Foxtail's group, he reasoned that these were the groups assigned to watch for Ivy Owsla activity away from the warren, on main paths. He had heard of the Grottons' tactics before, from members of Ivy's Owsla and newcomers to Ivy's warren from neighbouring warrens that had battled Cypress before. He knew that the Grottons would be stationed around Ivy's warren, so he carefully crept to that area and found another three scout groups. These were presumably Sorrel, Pokeweed, and Thrift. One group had nine troops, the second had eleven troops, and the third had six troops. In all six scout groups, there were... Poplar gathered some pebbles and counted them off. Eight, five, nine, nine, eleven, six... The total was forty-eight. Poplar knew that the conventional warren holes were probably well watched, but it was likely that Ivy's rabbits had not yet been harassed. There was no commotion yet, so they were probably waiting for something, for the time to be right. That was probably the coming Fu-Inlé. Attack before then was unlikely. However, remembering that Hrair had been captured, he decided that the Grottons were too unpredictable, and not wanting to risk capture, chose to slink away to the secret entrance, well away from the main holes, to warn Ivy. Frith-set was approaching quickly. 

  
Part Six 

  
"Well, well, if it isn't Poplar! You're just in time. Inlé's quarter cycle will be complete tonight." Oaktrunk was looking at him, almost with pride. Then he realized something. "Where is the hobaring stone?" 

"Sir, I lost it. I failed this mission." He could see that Oaktrunk was preparing to launch into a tirade, so he quickly interjected, "SIR! This is an emergency! Grottons are all around! They are preparing to attack us! Tonight, I'm certain!" 

"_ WHAT?!!_" Oaktrunk wasn't sure if Poplar was just trying to deflect a verbal lashing. But the fear in Poplar's eyes didn't lie. "Go _ on_, Poplar, tell me more!" 

"On my way back, sir, I saw them; there are... hrair of them!" 

Oaktrunk's eyes changed from rage to fear. This situation had been discussed. They were preparing defensive scouts, to be sent out and watch for further Grotton aggression - but they were to be sent out tomorrow. 

"Sir, I must show you where they are. You must see for yourself." 

"No, we need to see Ivy immediately. Come with me!" 

Upon entering Ivy's burrow, Oaktrunk said, "Chief, we have a situation. You know the Grotto threat you were worried about? Well, Poplar has returned from his hobaring and reported Grottons around. It seems they want to attack tonight." 

"Chief," said Poplar, "There's something you must know. I counted the Grottons." 

"Hrair?", said Ivy, now curious. 

"Forty-eight, Chief." 

The burrow fell silent. Ivy and Oaktrunk looked at each other, then both looked back at Poplar with obvious disapproval. "You mean, _ count_, like that traitor, HRAIR?" said Ivy, his voice full of aggravation. 

"_ Please!_ Gener... I mean, _ Hrair_ is _ not_ the enemy. Yes, he was too greedy, he made a terrible mistake of impatience, he told me everything." 

"You _ talked_ with him? You _ know_ where he is?" said Oaktrunk, with even more aggravation than Ivy. 

"_ Please!_ Listen! Just Listen! He is _ not_ a traitor. He's on _ our_ side. But the Grottons attacked him just now. He is their prisoner, and he may even have stopped running by now..." Poplar's voice broke at this, and he managed to add, "He taught me to count. He's on _ our_ side, Chief, I swear it." 

Oaktrunk was livid. "You were learning counting rather than completing your hobaring?" 

"He came with me," said Poplar, and seeing Oaktrunk's expression, quickly added, "_ Yes_, I _ know_, not by the rules, but _ if_ it matters, I did _ all_ of the navigating, and I lost the stone in a river, anyhow. I'll do _ three_ hobarings, if you care. But, all I care about now is the Grottons!" 

Ivy thought, then said, "Oaktrunk, take Poplar with you and have him show you where the Grottons are. Just the two of you will go. I was certain something was going to happen with that embleer Chief Cypress, but not _ this_ soon." 

Oaktrunk began to protest, but Ivy silenced him with the wave of a paw. His eyes softened somewhat. "Perhaps," offered Ivy, "we were mistaken about Hrair. I know Poplar as upstanding and honest. Isn't that one reason you wanted him for the Owsla, Oaktrunk?" 

Poplar gushed, "Thank you, Chief. You won't regret this." 

Oaktrunk muttered something under his breath, before saying, "Come on, Poplar, let's get this over with." They headed to the secret exit at Poplar's urging. 

Oaktrunk became more worried and less angry as Poplar led them to each Grotton scout group. They found all six groups again, then looked around for a bit more, but found no more. They saw a weary General Hrair with Crabgrass, but the two of them wouldn't have stood a chance trying to rescue him. Poplar cursed. "I should have known to ask for more troops." he said angrily. 

"No," Oaktrunk assured him, "We can't attack until we are ready." Oaktrunk hadn't been entirely convinced of General Hrair's innocence by this point, but his suspicions were dwindling quickly. He could see that General Hrair was truly frightened, and his captors were truly aggressive and cruel. One of them even cuffed General Hrair in the back of the head with extended claws, leaving blood to trickle down General Hrair's back. _ Hrair may very well be for real_, realized Oaktrunk, _ What have I done?_ By this time, Frith had just set, and they decided to head back to the warren. 

*** 

"So, you can COUNT, can you?" hissed Crabgrass, "Well, let's see if you can count _ cuffs_!" With Thorn and another Grotton pinning General Hrair to the ground, flat on his back, Crabgrass unleashed a savage flurry of strikes, with his claws drawn full, upon the prisoner's face, who automatically managed to count to six before he became too groggy to care. Blood flowed from his nose, mouth, and both cheeks. The other troops laughed with glee. 

"Sir," cut in Thorn, "do you think Cypress will approve? I mean, the orders were to not make our presence known until the time is right. What if they..." 

"Shut up!" roared Crabgrass, "I command this group! Release the prisoner!" Thorn and the other Grotton let General Hrair go, who simply lay there, half-conscious and bleeding. Crabgrass added, "See? We didn't touch him! Must have been a homba, right, troops?" The others laughed. "Well?" taunted Crabgrass as he spoke near to his prisoner's face, "How many cuffs was that? Can you tell me?" 

General Hrair merely offered, "Silflay hraka." That earned him another series of cuffs which drove the remaining consciousness from him. 

*** 

"Chief, this is for real, " said Oaktrunk, "I saw them all. It's an advance set of troops. If I know Grotto, I'd say they'll try to draw us out with these troops and when we're all in the open, the main assault force will set upon us. That's exactly what Milfoil said they did when they attacked his warren last year. Thank goodness he escaped and found our warren. Invaluable information now." 

"So what do you suggest, Oaktrunk?" asked Ivy. 

"Well, we need to take out those advance groups - one by one, and keep prisoners in containment below. Then, we stay underground. Cypress won't be able to touch us with Owsla guarding the burrows. We should also keep a good force hidden outside to attack the flank of the main assault force - especially since they might try to dig. Let's not give them that chance." 

"Chief, sir? May I ask to count our Owsla?" asked Poplar. 

Ivy grunted and nodded. "I guess that would be wise." 

Oaktrunk had each Owsla unit leader report to him with their troops. Poplar counted off the troops of each unit, but had to stop once the number hit ninety-nine. But, he didn't give up, storing this number in his head and starting a separate count. There were twenty-five more Owsla. "Chief," said Poplar, "we have ninety-nine and twenty-five troops ready in fifteen units. The Grottons have forty-eight outside. The ninety-nine will outnumber those Grottons by more than two to one. I suggest we act now." 

Ivy's mind was boggled by the numbers that Poplar was rattling off. "Oaktrunk, I want you and Poplar to plan the assault on the advance Grottons. Attack when ready!" 

Oaktrunk listened patiently while Poplar used pebbles to confirm how many Ivy Owsla should go where. "Crabgrass has five, send ten to take his troops out. Foxtail has nine, he gets eighteen. Blackwood has eight, so sixteen to him. Sorrel has nine, another eighteen there. Pokeweed has the most at eleven, that requires twenty-two. And finally, Thrift, with six, gets twelve of our Owsla. That's ninety-six of us and forty-eight of them. By the way - it was Crabgrass that took General Hrair prisoner - watch for him." 

It was Fu-Inlé. Oaktrunk named six of his unit leaders to command the six groups that were to assault the Grotton advance groups. They were: Milfoil, Karo, Shoreweed, Bur, Milkwort, and Weld. Poplar carefully counted off Owsla troops, who were then assigned to their respective unit leader by Oaktrunk. Each unit leader was briefed on the exact last-known position of the group of Grotton advance troops that they were assigned to attack. Each group was told by Oaktrunk as they left the secret entrance, "Nobody died in the last attack. But that was probably meant as a harassment raid. But, now, they mean business. They want to kill us all. So, go for the throat. We want as few prisoners as possible." It was indeed a sad necessity of many lapine wars - especially _ this_ war. 

Each group waited a while before following the previous group. This was to ensure that there was less chance of being discovered by the Grottons and that the element of surprise remained; as well, the hope was that if the first groups to attack took the first advance Grottons out quickly, there would be more fresh Ivy Owsla to tackle the other Grotton advance troops with the later groups. Attacking the advance Grotton groups one-by-one would increase their numerical advantage towards the end. 

Their plan was working beautifully. The Grotton group led by Pokeweed were surprised first by Milfoil's troops. The battle was fierce but brief. Of eleven Grottons, nine were killed in the battle, including Pokeweed. Only two Ivy Owsla died. The two surviving Grottons, both seriously injured, were dragged quickly into containment. Then, it was Sorrel's turn. Karo's troops killed six of the nine Grottons, including Sorrel, while only one Ivy Owsla died. That battle was made easier when Milfoil's troops joined up. By then, Thrift's troops had heard what was happening. Shoreweed's troops had to chase them for some distance, but both Thrift and Milfoil had their troops cut off the Grottons' escape. In that battle, five of the six Grottons died. Thrift himself was the sole survivor. None of Ivy's Owsla died then, as those Grottons were too confused, frightened, and outnumbered to put up a real fight. 

The advance Grottons that were assigned to watch the Ivy warren were defeated. That left the Grottons that were further out, watching the pathways. But, unknown to the Ivy Owsla, one of the Grotton messengers, Rainbow, heard the commotion, and assuming that the attack had started according to the Grotto plan, dashed off to find the others. The element of surprise for attacking the remaining Grottons was lost. 

*** 

"What do you mean, the attack is under way?" demanded Crabgrass to Rainbow, "Inlé is too high for that to start yet! What is going on?" 

"Sir, we must attack immediately! What about our prisoner?", offered Thorn. 

"Leave him! He's as good as dead! Troops! Move out! Rainbow! Tell the others to meet us at the predetermined point! We must attack together!" 

*** 

While Bur and his group were on their way to attack Blackwood, they were surprised when all of the remaining advance Grottons came for them at once. It was twenty-two Grottons against sixteen Ivy Owsla who had been prepared for only eight Grottons. Before Milkwort and Weld arrived with their troops, fourteen Ivy Owsla were dead, including Bur. Only nine of the Grottons died. However, the thirteen surviving Grottons were all killed when Milkwort and Weld came upon the scene with twenty-eight Ivy Owsla strong. A further five Ivy Owsla died in the refreshed battle - two of Milkwort's and three of Weld's. 

Both messenger does had already gone back to Chief Cypress to warn him of impending disaster should he go ahead with his main assault. But their warning fell on deaf ears. Chief Cypress didn't know defeat, and nothing was going to stop him now. 

*** 

The first battle was won. Six Grottons were prisoners, all wounded. Forty-two Grottons were dead, including five of their six scout leaders. Twenty-two Ivy Owsla were dead, with Bur being the only fatality among Ivy unit leaders. Fifteen Ivy Owsla, including each surviving unit leader, were seriously injured, leaving fifty-nine of the ninety-six troops that had led the first attack mostly unscathed. Twenty-eight troops, including nine unit leaders did not partake in this first battle, so that meant eighty-seven of Ivy's Owsla were ready for the main assault. Most of the fifteen unit leaders had been kept back as only six had been needed for the advance Grottons, not to mention the fact that they would be invaluable later on for the main assault. 

Poplar and Oaktrunk had remained at the warren during the first battle. They knew that the major fight was still ahead, and the warren needed them to be fresh for that one. When word returned to them of the victory, Poplar immediately inquired as to the whereabouts of General Hrair. 

"No sign of him, Poplar," said Oaktrunk, "I'm sorry." Oaktrunk still couldn't shake all of his ill will towards General Hrair, though he realized that he had been sorely mistaken about him. He was already going over in his head just how he could apologize. 

"But, sir! We _ must_ find him. He has done so much for us! We _ need_ him! _ He_ needs us!" 

Oaktrunk nodded, "All right, let's you and I go find him. We must hurry. I expect the main assault as soon as it gets light enough. We must have all of our troops in position and ready by then, and I need to supervise the operation as much as I can." 

"Yes, sir! Thank you, sir!" gushed Poplar. 

Poplar and Oaktrunk made their way quickly to where Crabgrass had been stationed, hoping that General Hrair would still be there - hoping that he would still be alive. When, they came to the place, they thought that their worst fears were confirmed for one terrible instant. Then, the bloody, inert body of General Hrair emitted a quiet groan. 

Poplar was immediately at General Hrair's side. "Sir! Hold on, sir! We're here! We're taking you back to the warren!" General Hrair opened his eyes, but said nothing. Poplar, having some training in basic lapine first aid (required in the Owsla training), asked General Hrair to move each limb, to ensure that his spinal cord was undamaged. He then put pressure on various points of General Hrair's abdomen to check for internal injuries. Fortunately, both his spinal cord and internal organs appeared to have had survived intact. 

"It looks like he'll make it, Poplar," assured Oaktrunk, "It looks like cuts, bruises, and a possible concussion. He only needs rest. Hrair - I mean, General Hrair, do you think you can walk?" 

General Hrair mumbled something incomprehensible, then nodded and got shakily to his feet. "You're going to be okay, General Hrair," assured Oaktrunk, "Frith in his good sense has blessed you. I only wish I had the same good sense." General Hrair looked at Oaktrunk and smiled weakly, though Oaktrunk knew his meager apology wasn't enough - but he suspected that General Hrair had forgiven him, anyway. _ He is a better rabbit than I_, thought Oaktrunk. 

It took almost a half-hour to get the groggy General Hrair back to Ivy-Rah's warren. But General Hrair walked the entire way, albeit slowly, even seemingly gaining strength as he went. But once inside, he quickly collapsed. He was then dragged carefully into an empty burrow. By that time, Chief Ivy had made it known throughout his warren that General Hrair, was _ not_ a traitor, and that he had likely saved the warren from a disastrous Grotton attack - again. Oaktrunk could only meekly look on, knowing how he had treated him. Chief Ivy had even gone to General Hrair's burrow to personally apologize. Oaktrunk went, too, adding his apology with an air of sincere contriteness. General Hrair accepted both apologies and offered unconditional forgiveness, adding, "I was wrong as well. I really should not have been so greedy and impatient. Perhaps I was just too proud. But, that is all behind us. We have a serious situation now." 

"Yes," confirmed Ivy, "We must pull together. The main attack will likely be a dawn." Oaktrunk immediately went to work organizing the defence of Ivy-Rah's warren. 

Inside General Hrair's new burrow there was a doe by the name of Crystal waiting. Crystal had already treated several wounded Ivy Owsla by licking their wounds, and getting them flay that was known to promote healing. She had made a sort of career out of being a "nurse", although rabbits really didn't have a concept of such a thing. Despite her concern and sacrifice for others, she remained a single doe, simply because she preferred it that way. When Crystal saw General Hrair, she was simultaneously glad that the already almost legendary General Hrair was in her care, and appalled at his injuries. 

"You'd best get some sleep, General Hrair, tomorrow's likely to be an unsettling day." she said. 

"Yes, I hear that Cypress is attacking at dawn. I'll have to be strong enough to help." 

"But, sir, that's only a few hours away!" exclaimed Crystal, adding in her best motherly voice, "_ You_ are not going anywhere, young buck!" General Hrair failed to suppress a laugh despite his pain, and that was quickly complimented by Crystal's giggles. _ If I were to have a family, here is my mate_. thought Crystal. 

Part Seven 

  
"Do we fill in the holes, sir?" asked Fern, one of the unit leaders. It was the final battle meeting in the Owsla chamber, with Chief Ivy, Captain Oaktrunk, Poplar, and the nine uninjured Owsla unit leaders present. Poplar was the only non-Owsla present, but that fact did not matter to anyone there. His role was vital. 

"No," replied Oaktrunk, "There's no time. Besides, remember the Watership lesson. When they filled in their holes, the Efrafans simply began to dig their own tunnels. Besides, if we leave only one entrance, then we can only fight two Grottons at once down here - as the standard tunnel size allows only two Owsla-size rabbits side-by-side. We have hrair entrances... " Oaktrunk waited for Poplar to confirm the numbers: sixteen entrances allowing thirty-two Grotto attackers, and Oaktrunk continued, "so there will be that many Grottons that we can attack directly at a time, underground - and that's how many we can take out at once. Don't worry, we'll have our best troops to guard each entrance at the point where they widen out. They won't break through. These Grottons are cautious. Milfoil confirmed that Cypress only sends as many troops at a time as the number of entrances allows. In this case that would be... what was it, Poplar? Thirty... two? Right. They don't storm a burrow until they feel they are winning underground. The Grottons will suffer heavy losses in this manner alone." Fern relaxed somewhat. Oaktrunk added, "Cypress wanted to bait us to go out on the silf; well, we'll bait him to come in!" 

"All right!" Oaktrunk called out, "What's the status on the preparations?" 

The units leaders reported one by one; all troops were positioned and ready. Of the eighty-seven Owsla fit for service, forty-eight were assigned to guard the burrows from the inside - three per entrance. The other thirty-nine, including Oaktrunk, were hidden on the silf, ready to launch a surprise attack on the Grottons' flank. Poplar joined Oaktrunk, to count the Grottons when they arrived. Nobody knew more than Poplar that the biggest risk was not knowing the size of the main Grotton assault. He hoped against hope that Cypress' troops would be lesser in number. With a heavy heart, he knew that high casualties would be unavoidable. 

"And," said Poplar, "we also have fifty-one adult non-Owsla bucks, including myself, and ninety-nine and sixty-two adult does. All have said that they will help if need be. They have teeth and claws, too. By Frith, even some of the kittens, younger and older, want a piece of the action." Poplar smiled at the enthusiasm that had been shown by his three young ones that he had spoken so proudly of to General Hrair. 

Oaktrunk nodded, saying, "But, for now, they are all staying well back, in the inner burrows. _ Especially_ the kittens. Now, does everyone understand the situation? Very well then, take your final positions. Good luck all, and Frith be with you." 

The sun was just beginning to tinge the eastern horizon with light. 

*** 

Cypress was enraged when the messenger does had told him that the advance assault had gone horribly wrong. Heavy casualties had been reported even before the advance troops were to strike. Cypress and his troops were stationed all night under dense foliage shelter about a half-hour travel away from Ivy-Rah's warren. There were sixty-two Grottons ready for the main assault in all, excluding the messengers. Ten of his Owsla were still in containment, as punishment for their earlier failure, and fifteen were guarding them. Eighty-one more of his Owsla were guarding his warren in his absence. Cypress could have taken more troops, but he just called for volunteers. The bloodthirsty ones who wanted to help destroy a warren, including kittens, came forward. Cypress knew not these numbers. To him, it was a multitude of hrair's. 

"I don't _ care_ what you say," roared Cypress to the messengers, "If you think I'm turning back now, you are stupider than you look! Rainbow and Snowdrift, you are dismissed! Get your embleer hides back to the warren! I'll speak with you when I get back! We will be victorious! There is no defeat!" At this point, Chief Cypress was beginning to lose what little grip on reality he had. But, the entire assault force that was with him still didn't see this. They wouldn't be shaken until they reached Ivy-Rah's warren. "We move now!" boomed Cypress. 

Cypress had chosen two of his most loyal Owsla troops to help lead the attack: Bindweed and Cornel. They were nearly as bloodthirsty and power-hungry as Cypress, and would tolerate no dissension. When Cypress gave the order to move, the echoed the order vigourously. 

As the Grottons approached Ivy-Rah's warren, they became aware of the scent of blood - rabbit's blood. Before long, they came across the first bodies. By scent alone, they were unmistakably Grotton. Several of Cypress' troops even recognized the unit leader Sorrel among the bodies. Cypress ignored the obvious, saying, "Well, what is this? Ivy must have lost his whole Owsla already! Look at all of his dead troops!" 

"Sir, these are ours..." began one of the Grottons, but he was stopped by a vicious cuff from Cornel. 

"Silence!" hissed Cornel, "You know nothing! Do you wish to go back to our warren and face discipline?" There was no reply. 

"Let us continue," went on Cypress, nodding approval to Cornel, "We must finish this by Ni-Frith." The sun was still below the horizon, but the light was obliterating all but the brightest of the stars. 

Soon after, they passed the remains of Pokeweed's unit in silence. There was no trace of Thrift's unit, nor was there any sign of any of the three Grotto units that were to have been watching the paths away from the warren. _ Where are those traitors?_ thought Cypress furiously, who then said, "I see their warren ahead. Prepare to attack!" 

*** 

"Poplar, how many can you see?" asked Oaktrunk, as the pair huddled with their surprise attack force in a bank of tall grass. They had taken a vantage point on an embankment some distance away, where they could easily see the invaders out in the open. Poplar had his front paws on Oaktrunk's back to get more height and better visibility, while still being out of sight himself. 

"I see... ten... twenty... at least... Well, if they would stop moving around so much! What are they doing? There's some more coming... another five... that's twenty... forty altogether so far, at least forty..." 

"And what are our numbers again? Higher than that?" 

"We have forty-eight below and thirty-nine above ground. Eighty-seven. If they only have forty, we should be okay, because we would be far outnumbering them." 

"That's what I wanted to hear." 

"Wait! There's another group... There! I can see them clearly, and they're staying put. That must be Cypress briefing them. I can count..." Poplar paused for a minute, then confirmed, "Sixty, give or take a few. It's hard to be exact with them bunched together, but I'm sure it's close to sixty." 

"So are we still okay?" Oaktrunk sounded a bit worried. 

"I should think so. It could work out well. If they do send two down each entrance to start with, there will be about thirty left for us to tackle. They'll be outnumbered below and above ground... There! They're moving to the holes!" 

*** 

"Troops! Listen up!" Cypress looked intently at each of his Owsla. "The enemy is hiding below ground, and they didn't even have time to fill in any holes. Look at that! They have hrair holes ready for invasion! This will be over before Frith clears the top of that tree." Cypress pointed to a tall cedar off to the east. Frith had just broken the horizon at that point. He continued, "They're scared stiff. They won't put up any kind of a fight. Bindweed! I want you to make sure that ALL of the holes are found and assign two troops to go down each hole, as per standard procedure. Then wait for my mark for the troops to commence a simultaneous attack. When you have the upper hand, I will come down with the rest. Move it!" 

The feeling of disillusionment was strong among many of the invaders. They had been expecting chaos when they arrived - the initial scouts were to be scrapping with Ivy's Owsla in the open. Then, the main assault force was to engage the Ivy Owsla and wipe it out, then move into the warren to finish the job. But, the only sign of their initial scouts were dead bodies. There were none of Ivy's Owsla to be seen - Ivy's casualties had been removed after the battle. However, those Grottons with second thoughts each assumed that they were the only ones feeling this way, and so kept their feelings to themselves. They followed Cypress' orders without question. Soon, all of the visible holes were located, and two Grottons prepared to enter each. 

"_ NOW!_" screamed Cypress. 

*** 

"Keep quiet! Not a sound!" whispered one of the Ivy Owsla stationed by the inside end of an entrance run, "I think this is it! Get back and wait for them to get in. Attack from three sides, like Oaktrunk instructed." About ten seconds later, two Grottons came through the entrance into where the passage widened out. 

"Sir, I can smell rabbits here." 

"No kidding, you think? You idiot!" 

"Sir, I don't feel good about this." 

"You want me to tell Cypress that you said that?" 

The wavering Grotton didn't have a chance to reply, as all three Ivy Owsla attacked, each from a different angle. The unsuspecting Grotton who appeared to have been in command was incapacitated quickly, with a deadly bite to the throat. After several seconds of gargling, he lay still. The apparent subordinate Grotton immediately cowered, with paws covering his head, squealing, "Mercy! Please! I surrender! Don't kill me!" He was cuffed into unconsciousness and dragged to containment. 

The picture was not the same at all of the fifteen other entrances. At one entrance, two of the defenders died, and the third was knocked out. The two Grottons then charged inside, but were met by several non-Owsla bucks and one doe, who, despite lacking the Owsla fighting skills, managed by sheer number to bite, claw, and cuff the Grotton pair into submission. Those Grottons were taken to containment by some of Ivy's Owsla who had already secured another entrance and were responding to the cries for help. 

There were several other cases where Ivy defenders were killed or wounded. In the end, eight of Ivy's Owsla died in the burrows, and seventeen were seriously hurt. Of the thirty-two Grottons who went into Ivy's warren, eleven died, sixteen were injured and in containment, and the remaining five unscathed Grottons begged for mercy and were imprisoned without further incident. In less than ten minutes, just over half of Cypress' main assault force was put out of commission. 

*** 

"What is going on down there?" grumbled Cypress, "I can hear so much squealing. Is that resistance I hear?" Before there was a response from his troops, they were the victim of a surprise attack. 

All thirty-nine of Ivy's silf attack force were on Cypress and his troops - at least one Ivy defender per Grotton attacker. In the cases where it was two defenders to one attacker, the attacker was usually swiftly dispatched, and the defending pair would immediately jump on the nearest Grotton struggling with one of Ivy's troops. When Cypress realized what was happening, he quickly delivered a crushing cuff and broke free of his attacker, then, already seeing Bindweed dead, found Cornel tussling with an Ivy defender. He helped Cornel in his fight, and their opponent was killed. "Cornel, come with me - quickly!" said Cypress in a hoarse whisper. Cornel followed Cypress, who ran at full speed away from the warren. Cypress was hoping that there would be no pursuers - unfortunately, there were no pursuers to watch them take up hiding in the same embankment that the Ivy defenders had just attacked from. 

Immediately after Cypress and Cornel fled, the Ivy Owsla who were still unscathed from the underground battle emerged and helped their comrades who were on the silf. When the Grottons saw this, many lost heart and tried to flee, but only four succeeded in this, eventually meeting up with Cypress and Cornel. When the mayhem finally settled, thirteen Grottons lay dead outside the warren, and another eleven lay wounded. The wounded Grottons were dragged into containment. Six Grottons had managed to escape, including Cypress and Cornel. 

*** 

"Sir, it's over." 

Cornel immediately delivered a cuff that broke the jaw of the Grotton who had finally realized the truth. "Shut up! It's not over! There is still hrair of us!" The wounded Grotton only coughed and gasped in reply. 

"You can stay! We are leaving! You and Cypress can stay here and die for all we care!" growled another Grotton. The other two who had not yet spoken simply nodded their heads. The four disillusioned Grottons then began hopping away, the wounded one at a slightly slower pace, leaving Cypress and Cornel to stew alone. 

"Let those traitors go! I'll deal with them later!" 

"Yes, sir! What is your plan?" 

"We wait. We wait for a chance to find Ivy. It's only a matter of time. If we can kill him, then we will have won." 

"Yes, sir!" 

Part Eight 

  
All was quiet. Ivy took stock of the cost, with Poplar's help. Seventeen of his Owsla dead, and thirty-seven injured in Cypress' main assault. Paired with the twenty-two dead and fifteen injured in the battles with Cypress' advance scouts, and the total was thirty-nine dead and fifty-two hurt. There would be much grieving in the days ahead, and much recovery. 

"Well, it's over. We did it, and no small thanks to you, Poplar," said Ivy, then looking at Oaktrunk, who had just joined them, "and thanks to you, too, for a job well done." Though victorious, Oaktrunk was too grim to offer a smile. 

"Thank you, sir," said Oaktrunk, "and may I make an unconventional request?" 

"Why not? What is it?" 

"I'd like to make both Poplar and General Hrair members of the Owsla without further ado." At Oaktrunk's words, Poplar's face lit up. 

"I agree. But, not right away; we'll perform the ceremonies at Frith-set. Where is General Hrair?" 

"I believe that he is still in recovery, sir," said Poplar, "Shall I go fetch him? I think he'll be feeling well enough to see you." 

"Please do, Poplar," said Ivy, "Let's go for a stroll outside, just you, Oaktrunk, General Hrair, and I. There are some things I wish to discuss." 

Several minutes later, General Hrair and Poplar appeared. General Hrair was walking quite steadily now. "I'm very glad that you were successful, Ivy-Rah," said General Hrair, "I hope that Frith will bless your warren in this time of healing." 

"It was your success, too, General Hrair - never doubt that." 

"Thank you, Ivy-Rah. You wished to talk?" 

"Yes. Let's go outside for a while. We'll take one of the paths where we can be alone, just us four. I need to discuss these latest events and the future of the warren." 

Both General Hrair and Poplar felt very honoured to be asked to come along, as usually such things were only discussed amongst Ivy, Oaktrunk, and the Owsla unit leaders. The four went outside and began to make their way slowly away from the warren on one of the Owsla paths - the one that passed near the embankment where Cypress and Cornel were in hiding. 

"As we are all aware, the last day has been a very tragic one. There has been too much death. And you, General Hrair and Poplar, " Ivy nodded to them in turn, "must be aware more than anyone of the true scope in number of this disaster." Both nodded glumly. Ivy continued, "I wish that this sort of thing never happens again. We must find peace with the Grottons, and any other warren that may wish to follow the infamous General Woundwort's example. We must show them the better way of life, the one set down by the blessed Hazel-Rah of Watership Down. Hazel-Rah made peace with his enemies and his warren prospered greatly. I only wish he were here today so that I could speak with him." 

Oaktrunk took advantage of a lull in Ivy's speech, "Chief, if I may make an observation, many of our Grotton prisoners told us that Cypress likes to ask for volunteers to go on his bloodthirsty missions. My only guess is that he didn't want to spark rebellion by means of forced recruitment. Cypress' entire warren must have been aware of his intentions towards us, so it is quite likely that now is the perfect time to make peace. What I mean is, the most bloodthirsty element of his warren is dead now - or imprisoned. And many of the prisoners hopefully are seeing life differently. I mean, we have some of our own caring for the wounded Grottons, now. I know for a fact that Cypress takes great pleasure in torturing and executing all of his prisoners." 

Ivy nodded, "Yes. We should release the prisoners as they become well enough to leave. Hazel-Rah would have done as much. Some may forget kindness, but my guess is most will not. Hopefully, they will practice it towards others. And, yes, I feel that there is no better time than now to talk to Grotto Warren. That's what I wanted to talk about. We need to pick some diplomats to go and talk with Grotto. Perhaps..." 

"Sorry, Chief," cut in Poplar, "There is one problem. Nobody has seen Cypress. He must have fled. If he goes back to his warren, it will be very difficult to..." 

*** 

"Sir, I see some of them... four of them... and one of them is Oaktrunk! Heading our way!" 

"Where?" demanded Cypress, craning his head. 

"There! Down that path! They'll be coming right by us!" 

"Well, hold off. I want Ivy. Let's see if we can listen in and find anything out." Indeed, neither Cypress nor Cornel had ever seen Ivy. They only knew him by name and his position as Chief of another warren, and therefore an enemy. Oaktrunk, though was well known amongst Cypress' Owsla, since he had served for so long as Ivy's Owsla Captain, and had fought the Grottons twice before - the first time was the Grotton victory, where Cornel was present, the second time was the Grotton defeat brought about by General Hrair. 

Both Grottons crept very carefully through the thick foliage, until they were within earshot. While listening, they heard Ivy speak to both General Hrair and Poplar by name, as well as Oaktrunk refer to Ivy as Chief. The identities of all four rabbits was now known to the two Grottons. Cypress' rage became nearly uncontrollable. Three rabbits that he wanted dead so badly - Ivy, Oaktrunk, and General Hrair - were before him. Poplar wasn't a specific target, but was to be killed as well. It was all Cypress could do to keep from charging from cover before he and Cornel had the best position of attack. 

"Hold off sir," said Cornel, holding back Cypress as much as he dared, "Not yet. Wait for them to get in front of us. There's four of them and two of us. We need as much advantage as possible, and that is an attack from behind." 

"Well, that General Hrair and Poplar sure don't look like much to fight." hissed Cypress. Indeed, General Hrair and Poplar were noticeably smaller. Cypress concluded, "We'll kill Ivy and Oaktrunk first." They waited under cover until their targets had gone further ahead. Cypress whispered hoarsely, "NOW!" 

*** 

Before Poplar could finish his sentence, the snapping of a twig behind them caused all four to turn around. A blur flew towards Ivy, and Poplar realized with terror that it was Chief Cypress. Without thinking, he jumped between Ivy and Cypress, managing to knock Cypress to the side despite his smaller size. Cypress, blind with fury, lashed out wildly at Poplar with claws drawn full and connected with his neck. Poplar was sent backwards, trying to grasp at his throat, which was already spurting blood. 

"_ NO! POPLAR!_" screamed an anguished General Hrair, as he leapt for Cypress himself, but Cornel pushed General Hrair to the side. When General Hrair turned to face him, Cornel lashed out with a vicious cuff to the head. General Hrair was aware of the blur of Cornel's paw, then was racked with pain and was flat on his back. Cornel was immediately on him, and was making to tear at General Hrair's throat with his bared teeth. Then, General Hrair saw that Cornel was gone. Oaktrunk had tackled him and both were now rolling on the ground, trading cuffs, kicks, bites, and curses. He could also see Ivy and Cypress in a similar battle to the death. But he didn't see the outcome of either fight. The sharp images of the forest blurred and darkened, as General Hrair lost consciousness. 

*** 

"I saw his eyelid twitch." General Hrair recognized the voice of Crystal. 

"Just now?" That was Oaktrunk. General Hrair began to remember what had happened and realized with relief that Oaktrunk was still alive. But the others? 

"How will we tell him?" said Crystal in a mournful voice. 

"Let me tell him, Crystal." 

_ Tell me what?_ thought General Hrair, _ What's happened? Oh, no..._

General Hrair was aware of a pounding headache. He remembered being clubbed by Cornel. There were other voices. One he recognized as Chief Ivy's mate, Raindrop. The others he knew as the Chief's three grown-up sons: Crowberry (the eldest), Mercury, and Woodruff. General Hrair opened his eyes, and once the blurriness was gone, the dim light from the burrow entrance was enough to recognize the faces that went with the voices. 

"Welcome back, General Hrair," said Crystal gently, "Just take it easy, okay?" 

"How long has it been?" 

"You've been here since yesterday. It's Ni-Frith again." 

General Hrair was thinking about what he had just overheard. "Where is Poplar? Where is the Chief?" 

Before Crystal turned away, General Hrair could see the tears welling in her eyes. Oaktrunk swallowed hard, then replied, "General Hrair... I'm sorry. They didn't make it. They stopped running in the battle." 

_ NO! OH, NO!_, thought General Hrair in anguish. He closed his eyes tightly, and said, "Poplar was going to make the Owsla..." he trailed off and thought of the grief that his mate Pearl and their kittens must be feeling. 

"He _ did_ make the Owsla," said Oaktrunk firmly, "He was given full Owsla honours." His expression lightened a little as he added, "And don't worry - I took care of Cornel, and Cypress didn't survive Ivy, either. Ivy stopped running only after the fight was over." 

"You saved my life, Oaktrunk," said General Hrair, remembering Cornel going for his throat then being tackled by Oaktrunk. He was trying to change the subject. 

"No, you saved us, General Hrair. Frith's gift to you saved us all." 

With the mention of his counting ability, General Hrair counted the six guests that he had in his room. _ One, two, three, four..._ something was missing. _ What is that? _he thought, _ I can remember_. But try as he might, the next number failed to materialize. He could only come up with "hrair". Somehow, he knew it wasn't right, but that was all he could think of. He thought harder. Cornel's violent blow to his head had caused a serious concussion, he knew, and he drew the conclusion that this blow and his current arithmetic amnesia were related. _ It must be temporary_, he thought, _ I'll wait_. Still, the sensation of the ghosts of numbers was unsettling. 

"I can't count anymore," said General Hrair bluntly, "I tried just now. I can't do it. And Poplar... Oh, he's gone... Who will count for us?" 

Oaktrunk looked at Crystal and Raindrop. Raindrop looked at her three sons. All were silent. After at least a minute, Crystal finally spoke, "General Hrair. Frith gave you that gift. You used it well. And now, he took it back. Don't fret. You're still the same rabbit as before." 

"But counting - it's all I was." 

"_ No_," said Oaktrunk, "Crystal is right. You haven't changed. The most important part about you is your character. And that is above reproach. You would have made even Hazel-Rah at Watership Down proud. You've made us proud. And that is why we have this offer for you." 

"What offer?" 

"We want you to be our new Rah. You will be Chief General Hrairah." 

The would-be Chief fell silent. He had learned about how a Rah was chosen. When a Rah died, his eldest son became Rah. In the absence of any sons, then his Owsla Captain became Rah. General Hrair was neither Ivy's eldest son nor the Captain of the Owsla. Both of those were present before him: Crowberry and Oaktrunk. And they were asking him to be Rah? "How can that be?" was all General Hrair could manage. 

"We've talked it over," said Crowberry, "It wouldn't be right any other way. I willingly cede the Rah-ship to you." 

"Everyone concerned agrees," confirmed Oaktrunk, "The entire warren. Just say the word... Chief." 

The tears flowed freely from General Hrair's eyes. He couldn't believe his ears. Was this a dream? Was he dead? No, he was alive and this no dream. But, then again, it was a dream. His dream of being a Chief Rabbit coming true - only much sooner than he had ever hoped. "I accept, " said General Hrair, suppressing sobs of joy, "I won't let you down." 

"Of that, we have no doubt. The ceremony will be at Frith-set." replied Oaktrunk. With the pain of losing so many friends, the relief of victory and peace, and the joy of seeing a new Rah, Oaktrunk stopped holding in his emotions. For the first time since the day that he couldn't find his marli as a kitten, the Captain of the Owsla wept. 

*** 

The ceremony was a joyous occasion, and there a fair bit of pomp and circumstance. It was held outdoors, for all of the warren to hear, and started with a telling of Ivy-Rah's life by Oaktrunk. Then, General Hrairah was called forward and asked to recite the Oaths: I pledge to protect my warren, I pledge to serve my warren, I pledge to practice wise judgment in the rule of my warren. Those were supposed to be the Three Oaths. But General Hrairah made it the Four Oaths by adding his own: I pledge to promote peace and friendship with the neighbours of my warren. 

That wasn't the only improvisation of the ceremony. Crystal and General Hrairah also were pledged as mates, much to everyone's delight. But that was just a formality. They had actually asked each other before the ceremony, literally at the same time. 

Both: "I was wondering if..." 

General Hrairah: "I'm sorry, Crystal, I didn't mean to interrupt. Go ahead." 

Crystal: "I was _ hoping_ that you would want to be my mate." 

General Hrairah: "Well, let me ask my question first. Would you give me the honour of becoming my mate?" 

Crystal (in tears): "Yes!" 

General Hrairah: "Well, then I most certainly want to be your mate!" 

After the Oaths were read, each member of the warren came forward, lined up, and took turns placing their paw on General Hrairah's head as a salute. It was almost like his dream before Poplar had discovered him, after his eviction from the warren. Like the feast of his dream, there was plenty of flayrah to be had at the Feast of the Rah. Like his dream, some important members of neighboring warrens were there to honour a new neighbour Rah. And, like his dream, the Grottons were there - some of the Grottons captured in the battle had chosen to join General Hrairah's warren and joined the salutation lineup. It was almost like his dream. But, Poplar was not there. 

  
Epilogue 

  
  
Chief Hrairah never did regain his ability to count. But, he didn't need it. In fact, he rarely thought of it again. His mind was quite occupied with his rule. He managed to make peace with the Grottons, and just as Oaktrunk had predicted, they were ready for peace. With Cypress and his cruel army gone, the remaining Grottons were ready for a different life. Their new Rah, Walnut, became fast friends with Chief Hrairah, and the two often met to discuss the news of their respective warrens. But Chief Hrairah didn't just stop there - he made sure _ all_ surrounding warrens were at peace with him. During his reign, there wasn't a single battle. That fact made it easier to forget his lost gift of counting. 

Hrairah and Crystal had three kittens. The first, a buck, was named Hrair-Ivy to honour both his father and the former Chief. The next two, both does, were named Mist and Robin. Their father delighted in telling them, and any other kittens who cared to listen, about his time with the humans, his journey with Poplar on the hobaring, and the battle with Cypress - despite the painful memories of the battle. He didn't tell of his former gift of counting though, as he would have had a hard time explaining what he had only once known. 

*** 

After nearly four joyful and prosperous years as Chief, General Hrairah fell ill from a midwinter lapine flu. Already quite elderly by lapine standards, and as he became sicker, it became clear that Hrair-Ivy should be prepared for his father to stop running. 

On one February night, Chief Hrairah bade his mate goodnight and fell into a deep sleep. What he thought was a dream that night was quite vivid. 

*** 

"Poplar! Ivy! Is that you?" 

"Of course, " said Poplar, "You remember us! And guess what?" 

"What?" 

"Guess how many stars there are?" baited Poplar. At this, Ivy began snickering. 

General Hrairah paused, then replied, "Hrair, obviously." Ivy started laughing out loud. 

Poplar smiled and confirmed, "Hrair, yes, but the exact number is..." The number that Poplar rattled off took some time to pronounce. 

"That was a... number?" inquired Chief Hrairah, now curious. 

"Yes. A number. You taught me to count, remember? I just took it a bit further, that's all. I've taught Ivy, too, and I'd be glad to teach you what I know, as well." 

"It would be an honour, my friends." 

"Then, come with us." 

*** 

"Dear?", murmured Crystal, "It's morning. Get up." A realization began to dawn on her. She touched her mate's forehead with her paw. Chief Hrairah had stopped running. 

************ 

The End 

** Please read "The Promised Friend", the sequel to "General Hrair", by the same author.**


End file.
